


Colors

by Kitty_KatAllie



Series: What's It Like [14]
Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Brief Scene kindasorta Dubcon?, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Colorsight Soulmate AU, Insecurity, M/M, but with a twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8217787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_KatAllie/pseuds/Kitty_KatAllie
Summary: What if you pass by your soulmate and don't even notice? How long would it take to find them again? And what do you do when you're on opposite sides of the field?Sena Kobayakawa spends almost 6 years torn in Half, knowing he'd passed his soulmate, but unable to remember when or who. Colors are the first clue, as only paired soulmates can see them, but the symptoms increase and worsen the longer they're apart, making school and life in general difficult. Six years of dreaming and waiting and hoping, and he never could have expected this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Soulmate AU: what if they were in a world where you only see in black and white… until you meet your soulmate?**
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> The Underage warning is NOT EXPLICIT. I'm merely warning because at the time, Sena is fourteen and Shin is fifteen. The slightly Dubcon warning refers to this scene as well. If you need to see more in case of trigger reasons please see the end notes.

Not _everyone_ had a soulmate, and even more never _find_ their soulmate. It was said that more than 60% never found an “other half”, either because they just didn’t exist or because their paths never ended up crossing in their lifetime.

His parents weren’t soulmates, after all. They, like so many others, had never seen colors. They had waited until their early thirties, then finally given up and gone to a “marriage mart”. They’d expected to just settle, or maybe just give up entirely, but had met each other instead. Finding each other, his mother liked to say, had been their blessing in disguise. They met and connected and _fallen in love_. It was a sweet, typical, normal story. 

But there was still that 40-odd percent of the human race that managed, despite all odds and percentages, to find their perfect mate. Forty percent of the world saw it in its full, glorious spectrum. They saw colors without names, sunsets and sunrises, oceans and mountains and flowers and _rainbows_. The dazzling and subtle hues that were unseen by so many.

And he, Sena Kobayakawa, gopher extraordinaire, was one of the lucky 40%.

…

… Kind of.

There had been… a _complication_ six years ago. A complication that was simply— _Sena had no idea who his soulmate was_. 

* * *

Shin Seijuuro had always been a serious boy. He never lied. He never even _hedged_ the truth. He was blunt to the point of being rude, but he was also kind. He never teased or bullied. Never judged or found people wanting.

He was a serious, no-nonsense little boy with a resting face of a serial killer. By the time he was four. His father joked that all the severity he lacked had been passed down to Seijuuro. His mother would just smile, shake her head, and smooth his hair away to kiss his forehead and call him her handsome little knight.

So when he came home one day, sat down in the parlor with his parents, hands clasped to his knees, and said, “I found my Soulmate today," both of them immediately believed him.

There was a long moment of startled silence, no doubt about that, but they quickly leapt to their feet and covered him in embraces and kisses and congratulations in their own unique fashion—his father exuberantly, his mother elegantly.

“A Soulmate at only ten years old! Not even eleven yet! That’s marvelous!” Seisuke had bellowed and slapped Seijuuro’s back.

“Whoever they are, I’m sure they’re absolutely perfect for you, dear. We’ll have to set up a dinner right away and welcome them into the family,” Juuri added as she clasped Seijuuro’s hands in his.

“I lost him.”

Silence reigned once more as both Shin parents stared at him blankly.

“Y-You lost him, dear?” Juuro asked.

“He was running one way, and I was running the other. By the time I realized what I was seeing, he was gone,” Seijuuro explained bluntly. For a moment, uncertainty flickered across his features and something small and sad darkened his already dark eyes. “I… I couldn’t _see_ him anymore, Mama. I can’t… I can’t _see_ him.”

Seisuke smoothed his fingers over his mustache to cover the trembling of his lips. Seisuke could remember all too clearly the first time Seijuuro had said those words, in that tone. The long ago terrifying, heart-breaking day he got lost in a mall and finally admitted he couldn’t remember their faces once he looked away. Juuri had been saying for years they should take him to see a doctor, but Seisuke always thought he’d grow out of it. One day, Seijuuro, his brilliant, serious, little man, would _surely_ be able to figure out how to _see faces_. Everyone could! And because of Seisuke’s stubbornness, his lovely wife had given up her fulfilling career and now. _Now_. He turned away, shame bearing down his shoulders. Too ashamed to comfort his son or face his wife again.

“Oh, Seijuuro, dear, we’ll find him. I promise, my sweet boy, we’ll find him,” Juuri was whispering to Seijuuro, holding him close enough he was half on her lap, her cheek resting on the crown of his head.

Seijuuro’s eyes slid closed and he sank into his mother’s hold, breathing in the familiar scents of her perfume and silk clothes. If mother said it’d be okay, then he’d believe her. He would be strong and optimistic so mother wouldn’t worry.

Surely, it wouldn’t be too hard to find another little boy like him with a missing Soulmate?

… (Second Year)

Sena fell into bed with a tired sigh. Just another day of hell. Another day of bullies that he ran errands for, just to dodge too-meaty fists _barely_. Another day of Mamori-neechan having to chase them away for him and discreetly wiping away snot and tears. Sure, he could run now, but he wasn’t half as fast as Rikku-kun had been. And sometimes…

Sometimes he would get distracted and forget to be _cautious_.

Two years later and the colors still _startled_ him. Beautiful, heart-wrenching colors. The blaze of green turf, the tepid brackish grey-brown of the canals, and the flash of scarlet shop awnings. The colors gave him headaches the first few months, but now they just dazzled him and he could appreciate them without residual pain.

These day, though, it wasn’t just colors distracted. Today actually… it’d been…well, it’d been different. The Spectrumist he’d been seeing since he was nine had told him that the symptoms would gradually increase over time if they couldn't find his Other Half, but there would be no telling just how many he’d be affected by, when, or how severe, thanks to the strangeness of the situation. He hadn’t fully understood it _then_ , and he could barely understand it now. However, he _did_ finally get what had been happening the past few weeks.

Sena rolled over to stare up and his ceiling, hand twisting into the loose fabric of his tee shirt over his belly. As if he could calm the roiling, twisting mess inside him by touch. During lunch, when he’d been cowering in his newest hiding spot, too embarrassed and guilty to bother Mamori-neechan _again_ for company when she had so many other, better friends, he’d felt… something strange. Something like… _concern_. Just out of nowhere, a warm, bubbling concern that he knew was directed towards him. The yawning ache of loneliness in his gut had eased for a moment at the tentative press of _caring_ just behind his breastbone.

Like a hand pressed to his heart. Reassuring and warm and _strong_.

Somehow, despite their terrible, stupid distance, his soulmate had felt what he’d felt and had reached out.

He had been so terrified and exhilarated at once, that he hadn’t noticed the approaching footsteps. Which was how, of course, the same bullies he had been hiding from managed to box him into a corner and toss him around before he could get to his feet and start running. He’d never understand the need to hurt people for fun, would never understand how making someone cry just because they were smaller or timid or even _smarter_ \- though that wasn’t really true for _him_ \- could make someone else feel _good_. But he didn’t need to understand for him to be the victim of it.

_You think you’re so special ‘cuz you’re a little fast and can see colors, huh?_

_You think you’re so much better than everyone else, twitching and jumping around and telling teachers what’s blue, but you’re just a whiny little baby._

_I bet he’s lying._

_Are you lying Kobakaya? Where’s your_ soulmate _at, uh?_

 _Didn’t you hear, special little snowflake Kobayaya_ lost _his soulmate!_

The laughter grated more than the continually wrong name. They hadn't even bothered to care about who he was before hating him. 

 _Ha! I bet that’s not what_ really _happened. I bet his soulmate took one look at_ him _and ran away!_

It didn’t just grate this time. It was like being _stabbed_ by their laughter. He barely even noticed them pushing him down, or his face clocking against a wall. Didn’t care that they all gasped, threatened to _really_ hurt him if he told, and ran away in fear of what their own actions had caused. Sena had spent the rest of the school day with his chin tucked close to his chest to hide the darkening bruise around his eye, and feeling the here-and-again flashes of distress that wasn’t his own.

Maybe those boys had been right. Maybe his soulmate _did_ see his face almost two years ago? Maybe they had seen the skinny, worthless, tiny _coward_ Sena was and kept walking? And now, today, he and his soulmate were _connecting_ , sharing _feelings_ , filling in their void between them, and his soulmate’s first new impression of Sena was of fear and loneliness.

Proving their choice had been the right one after all.

Sena curled up on his side, hands clenching against his belly, teeth gritting hard enough to squeak and crack, as he sobbed into his comforter.

 _I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m all you’ve got. I’m so sorry it’s me_.

…

Shin was only 12 years old. Just barely had his birthday even, so he still felt a little bit like an eleven year old still.

But he’d wanted to punch something. Punch something so hard it busted apart.

Or maybe he wanted to fix something. Watch something broken and shattered come back together in his hands.

Instead he _ran_. Sweat poured down his face, his clothes stuck to his reed-like frame, his legs trembled and his breath rasped out of his sandpaper throat. The track practice had already ended, but he’d convinced his coach to let him stay behind. Hoshino, his family’s butler-cum-driver-cum-whatever-else-needed-done-including-babysitting-a-little-bit, was there. Sitting neatly on the bleachers in his perfectly tailored and pressed black suit. Koujou Primary had security guards on rotation 24/7 and at every entrance, just in case. He’d be perfectly safe doing a couple more laps after practice.

A couple turned into a dozen.

And then twenty.

And then thirty.

He couldn’t stop, though. Even as his vision darkened and his gait began to wobble. Even as his stomach growled angrily and his chest began to _hurt_.

Because that pain was nothing to whatever his soulmate was going through. Shin was a solitary boy, always had been. But he’d also always had a friend, at least one. He had classmates and teachers who cared about his well-being. He had a loving mother, a overbearingly doting father, and a constant flux of household staff that treated him like a nephew or a little cousin rather than just the son of their employer. Hoshino, especially, had always felt like a wise and kind uncle, who asked about Shin’s day and congratulated him on his homework and grades just as proudly as his parents did. So while Shin liked to be alone and spend time apart from people for hours at a time, he was never… he’d never felt _lonely_.

Until today at lunch, when he had frozen over his bento, hand trembling and eyes welling with tears, at the _aching hole_ inside him. It had taken him so offguard, he could barely control his own body’s reaction. It had taken a whole 30 seconds of careful breathing patterns and repetitive finger-counting—techniques his therapist had taught him years ago to survive through his childhood panic attacks— before he had calmed down enough to realize it _wasn’t his loneliness_.

For a second, the lonely feeling had stuttered with amazement, only to be replace with fear and lastly, mind-bogglingly, with _guilt_. A guilt that had stuck around till past school hours, past practice, to now, a guilt that burned in his chest even as the loneliness gnawed at him, returning with a gut-wrenching strength.

And he couldn’t _do_ anything. He couldn’t help his soulmate. He knew it was a little boy like him. A little boy with fast feet and a faster smile that he couldn’t remember. Just the glowing warmth it had filled him with as the sky blazed with blue. He could do nothing to help that little boy who needed him. If he wasn’t broken, if he was faster or stronger or better, Shin could’ve gone after him, could’ve found him, could’ve remember his face or the name the other boy had called out.

Instead, his soulmate was all alone and scared and guilty and Shin could only _feel_. He couldn’t hug him like his father did when he woke up from a nightmare of faceless people, he couldn’t run his fingers through his soulmate’s hair and hum him a lullaby like his mother used to do until he could breathe again. He couldn’t put his hand on his soulmate’s shoulder and squeeze affectionately like Hoshino did when Shin brought home a glowing report card or gave a homeless person whatever yenn he had in his pocket instead of spending it on his favorite mango ice cream that day. He couldn’t make his soulmate feel _better_.

And it was all his fault.

The last breath ripped out of him and he stumbled, legs water and lungs never quite getting enough air. Arms wrapped around him, familiar, _safe_  arms and he clutched at them, breathing in the scent of his father’s cologne and feeling the whiskers scratching at his temple.

“Son, it’s time to come home.”

“I should have called you sooner, sir, please forgive me,” Hoshino was murmuring softly.

“You called. That’s all that matters, Hoshino. Come on, now, big boy, let’s go,” Seisuke said, grunting as he hefted his pre-teen son up into a cradle close to his broad chest. He stumbled a bit, then chuckled, the noise a rumbling burr under Shin’s ear. “I won’t be able to do this anymore much longer. You’re almost a man now, Seijuuro.”

But Shin was already out cold, tears mixing with the cold sweat on his face, sobs that weren’t his echoing in his head.

… (Third year)

His third year of being “Halved” was already half-done- _ha, half_ \- and Sena was sitting in a waiting room of an all-too-familiar clinic. There was an older couple, holding hands and looking content and obviously husband and wife if their matching gold bands said anything; there was a very uncomfortable-looking teenager with an older shell-shocked twenty-something-year old; and there were two girls, barely eighteen or nineteen, giggling and touching each other’s faces and hands and clothes, oohing and awwing over the bright new colors around them while also oohing and awwing over each other.

Sena kicked his heel against the leg of his chair petulantly. Even the grumpy 20-year-old with the teenage boy that wouldn’t stay still were better off than _him_. At least they were gonna work through their issues together. He was stuck here, alone, in this paid-for-by-the-federal-welfare clinic, smelling cheap coffee and heavy cleaning products fumes with his mother. And Pitt.

He looked down and stroked the tiny kitten’s back, eliciting a machine-grating-loud purr that had Sena smiling. Something he _never_ did in this place. Last month the therapist, specializing in Spectrology, had suggested getting a pet for Sena if the option were viable. The one good thing that had come out of the past 3 years, Sena supposed, gently stroking her twitching little ears and up the bridge of her wee little nose between her eyes and over her tiny head.

“Kobayakawa?” called out a soft voice. Sena started in his chair, Pitt crying out softly in annoyance at his abrupt movement. The attendant smiled kindly at him. “She’s ready for you now.”

Sena gulped audibly, but nodded and got to his feet, his mother beside him.

The appointment went as it usually did, with simple tests for his color-sight, questions about the emotion-bleed-through, how he was dealing with pressures at school (he tended to stutter and hedge a bit with that, focusing more on his relationship with Mamori-neechan than anything else with anxious darting glances towards his mother), though today a few more questions were added about Pitt and how her presence was affecting him and his emotional instabilities, as she called them.

The doctor had no idea it was _his own emotions_ he’d been having problems with, not the bleed-through from his soulmate. He’d sort of… accidentally led her to that assumption and hadn’t… fixed it.

They were coming close to the end of his appointment, and as much as he was twitchy and desperate to know, he was dreading saying anything. Relief was winning over desperation as their time began to tick down. Until the dreaded question slammed down between them like a hammer- to Sena, anyway.

“Have you developed any other symptoms or issues we need to discuss, Kobayakawa-kun?”

Blood drained from his head, making him dizzy and woozy, and his hand on Pitt’s back stilled. Her tiny claws kneading into his thigh startled him out of his tongue-tied silence.

“Ah! Uh. Um,” Sena stammered and fidgeted, wincing and freezing when Pitt yowled unhappily. “It’s um… well, I had. A dream?” Sena said cautiously, eyes stuck on the ground.

The therapist immediately sat up a little straighter, brown eyes keen and fingers tapping against her notebook once, twice, then stilling. Beside him, his mother gasped, her plump hand covering her mouth.

“A dream,” the doctor said encouragingly.

“It… It wasn’t mine. I’m _sure_ it wasn’t mine. They were all in a place I’d never seen before. I think it was a school, maybe? It was a very fancy looking place, with flowers and pretty painted pictures on the walls and everyone was wearing nice clothes, but…” Sena trailed off, shaking slightly as he lifted Pitt up and cuddled her close to his cheek, eyes shuttering closed.

“Kobayakawa-kun, this could be helpful to finding your Other Half. Please, as much as you can remember would be helping _you both_ ,” the doctor said kindly, but firmly.

Sena pressed his nose to Pitt’s soft fur, swallowing down the welling up doubt. His soulmate wouldn’t be better _with_ Sena in his life. Sena would just be a burden to him like he was to Mamori-neechan and his parents, no matter how much they loved him. He knew they did, but that didn’t make him less a disappointment. But he remembered the dream, the shocking quality of it that had him falling off his bed onto the floor, as if he’d been trying to run _out_ of the nightmare.

“They didn’t have faces. None of them had _faces_ ,” Sena whispered in horrified bewilderment. “I kept looking around and staring and _staring_ and I could hear their voices and they kept waving and there’d be a smile or laughing, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t see any faces. I didn’t know their names and I felt… I felt trapped. Like I couldn’t breathe anymore. So I started running, and running, and then I was on a track and there was no one else. Except this little boy ahead of me. I got up to him and… he smiled and I think… I think I saw _me_ , but I didn’t… I didn’t have a face either,” Sena barreled on, eyes squeezed shut and body shuddering. “I couldn’t _see me_.”

“Oh, Sena, my baby,” Mihae exclaimed, aghast, before pulling both him and his kitten into her arms. His breath broke out of him into a sad little cry.

“I think it was… _theirs_ , right? That wasn’t my dream, that was _theirs_. They couldn’t see my face, they couldn’t see _anyone’s face_ and they were _scared_ , Mama,” Sena wheezed, fingers clutching at the back of her dress. “I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t change the dream. I couldn’t talk. And they just kept _running_.”

The doctor patiently waited for the sobs to subside, handing over some tissues and breathing obviously and slowly where she crouched in front of him. His mother copied the doctor and, together, he managed to slowly pull himself back, matching their breathing pattern as he calmed. He sat up on his own, blowing his nose and swiping at his eyes with the tissues, while the doctor returned her chair, eyes concerned and almost guilty.

“We don’t really have a lot of time left, I’m afraid. I would like to discuss it a bit more with you when you’ve had a bit more time to digest it, but we won’t be able to today. Just know that it’s perfectly normal to Share dreams, good and bad, with your Other Half, Kobayakawa-kun. The more intense the dream, the more likely you are to Share it. I see it’s not something you like discussing aloud with your parents, however,” the doctor said, with a curious look towards his mother.

Mihae shook her head sadly, rubbing her hand up and down Sena’s shaking back. “No, he hasn’t said a word to us.”

Sena ducked his head, guilty and ashamed.

“It’s all right to want to keep somethings to yourself for awhile, especially if they confuse you and have to do with your soulmate. It’s an intensely private and personal experience. It could feel like a betrayal of their trust to tell others,” the doctor said, her voice still that kind, soft tone that had his tension easing moments later.

“Yeah… yeah it did,” Sena mumbled.

“The problem is that it’s not good to keep it all bottled inside if it makes you feel bad, or if you’re scared. So here’s a pretty popular compromise. I had it ready for the day this would happen, if it did,” she said with a bright smile. She hurriedly searched through a drawer in the small stand next to her, and pulled out a paperbound notebook. It was simple and rather thin with a bright purple cover. He couldn’t help but smooth his fingertips over the rich, dark color in awe. Red and blues and yellows were the most common colors he saw. But sometimes he saw flashes of colors like purple or orange or even green. They always took his breath away. He wanted to cry again when it faded to grey. “It’s a dream journal. The dreams you Share, write them down in the mornings. You can let one of your parents, or even just me, read it, just so you won’t have to deal with the fallout of the more intense dreams alone. We’re here to help you, Kobayakawa-kun. Do please try and let us.”

Sena gaped up at the doctor, mouth working uselessly. Slowly, he nodded and tucked the notebook close to his chest with one arm. With the other, he took back Pitt from his mother so she could pick up her purse and get to her feet.

“Same time next month, _sensei_?” Mihae confirmed, somewhat unnecessarily. The doctor nodded resolutely.

“Indeed. Also, happy birthday, Kobayakawa-kun. I hear you’re turning twelve next week. Have a good time.”

Sena blushed beet-red, and nodded. A little surge of happiness broke through the heavy weight of confusion because of her simple, kind words. He left the clinic feeling a little more buoyant than he’d expected.

Not that it lasted long. A week later, the simple kindness of the doctor’s words _then_ meant next to nothing when _now_ he was sitting alone in his living room, playing with Pitt and one of her new cat toys. His lips wobbled on a smile as she scrabbled over the wooden floors after the little fuzzy-bit at the end of the whip-like-stick. Behind him, he could hear the low, anxious murmurs of his parents in the kitchen. Where his giant cake, baked by his mother, was sitting on the table.

Birthday cake waiting to be eaten by guests that never showed up.

“I’d share with you if I could, Pittko,” Sena whispered, almost giggling as her tiny tail whipped through the air and almost overbalanced her.

“Sena, where are y- Oh! There you are! Are you sure you don’t want to call your friends and see if they got the time wrong?” Mihae asked brightly with a smile that didn’t quite meet her dark eyes.

 _Brown_. His mama’s eyes were _brown_ like his. His father’s eyes were darker, black rather than brown, he remembered. He was shaking his head at his mother’s suggestion.

“No, mother, it’s okay. I think I’d like to go lie down. I’m feeling kinda tired,” Sena demurred politely, setting the cat toy back in its box and sweeping Pitt up into an embrace. The kitten immediately rubbed her head under his chin and began to knead at his collarbones.

Mihae and Shuuma exchanged glances that Sena pretended not to see. The newly-minted twelve-year-old trudged up the stairs to his room, sunk onto his bed, and stared down at the kitten in his hands. When she began to struggle, tired of being confined, he set her down on his bed, and slowly lay down, turning over and curled into a loose-C-shape to watch her struggle over the hills and wrinkles of his bedcovers on her tiny, unbalanced legs. He felt it again, like he had last year. That twinge behind his sternum of distress and concern from his soulmate.

Reaching up, he pressed his palm to where the tug felt strongest and closed his eyes.

“I wish you were here. I wish you were my friend,” he whispered. Whiskers tickled his nose and had him sputtering out a laugh. “At least I have you, huh, Pittko? Just me and you. You’re the best friend I could’ve asked for.”

“What, you’ve replaced me already, Sena-kun?” demanded an amused, sweetly-motherish voice from behind him.

Sena rolled over, Pitt in his hands, and sat up all in one movement, gaping and grinning.

“You came?! But I thought you went with your mother to Kyoto for the weekend!” Sena protested in delighted surprise. Mamori harrumphed with an eyeroll.

“Kyoto for just a day and half is a _pain_. I’d rather wait for a _real_ vacation and stay for a couple days. Mother only needed to go for a meeting, anyway. I demanded to stay behind so I could celebrate with you. I’m spending the whole weekend here instead!” Mamori announced, arms thrown open wide and blue eyes bright and shining over her grin. The pink scarf around her next made her whole face softer and sweeter somehow.

The colors, along with the relief behind his breastbone, and the bright happy presence that was his best friend, his _only_ friend, giving up a day in Kyoto for _him_ , had tears swimming in his eyes.

“ _Thank you, Mamori-neechan!”_ Sena exhaled, barreling across his room to throw himself into her hug. He’d been trying so hard to be a big kid, to not need her so much, to not cuddle like a baby, but it was his birthday and he would cuddle if he wanted to.

“So I heard that was a Mama Kobayakawa specialty cake waiting downstairs and I’m _dying_ for it. Let’s go stuff our faces and play some games. I brought our favorites from my house,” Mamori suggested, rubbing her cheek against the fluffy crown of his head. Sena sighed happily. She smelled like green tea and flowers and something uniquely _Mamori_ that never failed to make him smile.

“Okay. But no trivia games this time! I think you made my dad cry last time, and you were a team all by yourself!” Sena warned, laughing as he followed her down the stairs.

“Ha! Your father is weak!”

“I heard that!” Shuuma called out, laughing just as brightly. Maybe _too_ brightly.

Mamori always brought the sunshine with her. Or more like, she brought out the sunshine in _Sena_ , which had been so dim these past few years. Seeing him bright-eyed and cheeks-flushed, holding Pitt like he used to hold his teddy bear and stuffing his face with too-large-bites of cake went a long way to reminding his parents of the joy he used to exude. They were privately _fervently_ glad that Mamori would be staying the whole weekend.

…

Shin sat on the bench, turning the strange helmet over and over in his hands, pensive and anxious. He’d gotten a better handle on his dreams this year, but the feelings that bled-through from his soulmate were getting stronger, happening more often, every day. Next to him, Sakuraba stretched out his long limbs, light amber eyes fixed on the sky above them.

“So what do you think about amefuto, Shin-san? Having fun yet?” Sakuraba asked curiously. He winced at the particularly loud crashing sounds of third-year-middle-schoolers throwing themselves at each other on the field.

“I like it better than track or soccer. I enjoy the exertion and intense training.”

Sakuraba grimaced outside of Shin’s line of sight. “Shin-san, I think you’re the only one who’s _that_ intense during training. We’re only first year _middle schoolers_. We won’t even play against other schools until next year, and only for scrimmages and inter-school competition. We won’t do _actual_ tournaments until senior high. You don’t have to try so hard right now, you know,” Sakuraba pointed out, despairingly but fondly at the same time.

Sakuraba’s reactions to Shin were multi-faceted and confusing to Shin. While he’d had classmates and reoccurring acquaintances before, Sakuraba had somehow become a true _friend_ in the past few months they’d been classmates. Despite this, however, Sakuraba hadn’t quite come to understand Shin or Shin’s drive to be more, to be better, to be _perfect_ at what he did. For so many reasons.

One the biggest being the reason he was currently gripping the face-guard on his helmet too hard, knuckles white inside his gloves, as that heart-splitting loneliness reared its ugly head.

“It doesn’t matter. One should never do anything with half a heart. True satisfaction comes from achieving your greatest potential at all times,” Shin stated sternly, frown creasing lines deep into the sides of his mouth. Sakuraba stared at him, bright eyes blinking dumbfoundedly.

“Are you sure you’re a first year?”

It was Shin’s turn to stare. “You’re in my class.”

Sakuraba curled over himself a little, fist in front of his mouth and light hair, almost blonde it was so light brown, falling over his forehead. “Sorry, Shin-san. I was just joking with you. You’re just… very surprising sometimes.”

“First years! You’re up! Get your baby butts out on the track and start running. FULL GEAR!” Coach Shouji roared with arms crossed over his chest, Takami at his side with a stopwatch in his hands. Shin grimly shoved his helmet over his head as Sakuraba grumbled good-naturedly beside him.

Running. Running he could do. Running he could do _well_. With Shouji’s coaching, Shin was reasonably sure he could do better, too. One day, maybe he’d be fast enough to catch that boy at last.

… (Fourth Year)

Sena’s first year of middle school started off with a bang.

To his nose.

“O-Oh, s-sorry, I d-didn’t-” his stammering broke off as hands grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him off his feet. While most of his classmates had gotten their growth spurts over the winter vacation, Sena was still as wimpy and tiny as he’d been for the past four years. Okay, maybe a couple centimeters difference, but not a whole lot, nothing _drastic_.

Unlike the behemoth who was holding him off the ground with the strength of his arms alone. Light eyes under bleached blonde hair- was it bleached though?- and a cross-shaped scar on his cheek made up the boy in front of Sena. A quick glance at his school badge showed he was in the same year as _Sena_ , he wasn’t even a third year.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re goin’, pipsqueak,” growled the bigger, if not older, boy. Sena crumpled unceremoniously to the ground as the student dropped him and coldly walked away. His two friends followed after, one snickering and the other nose-deep in a Jump issue.

“Sena-kun?! Sena-kun, where are- Oh! There you are! What are you doing on the ground, silly? You’ll dirty up your new uniform and you look so spiffy,” Mamori-neechan tsked, hefting him to his feet with one arm- to his inwardly cringing dismay- and began to dust off his slacks.

“Eh! Eh! Mamori-neechan! I can do that myself!” Sena yelped, hands flailing and face red. Mamori backed away, arms crossing over her chest- er, _under_ a new swelling of her chest area that Sena deliberately looked away from, even redder ( _when did Mamori-neechan get_ those!?) _-_ and pouted, cheeks puffing in irritation.

“Did someone knock you down, Sena-kun? Your books are all over the ground!”

Sena blinked at her, then looked down to see that, yes, his shoulder-bag had indeed fallen to the ground and everything inside was spilling out over the tiled hallway. With a yelp, Sena fell back to his knees- ignoring the indignant warning from Mamori-neechan on the condition of his knees and pants- and hurriedly stuffed everything back in his bag.

“It was nothing. Just me being clumsy, moving too fast and not looking far enough ahead. I’m fine.”

“Hm, sometimes I wish Rikku-kun hadn’t taught you to run. Then this wouldn’t happen so much,” Mamori sighed, a hand cupping one cheek and consternation written clear across her features.

Sena popped back up, eyes blazing and hands clenched in fists. “No, Mamori-neechan! Don’t say that!” Her light eyes- flashing bright blue for a heartbeat’s worth of time- widened and her mouth fell open in shock. Blood rushed back to his cheeks and he fumbled with his bag’s clasp. “I-I just m-mean th-that l-learning to r-run has r-really helped. I c-can get away f-faster and the o-others d-don’t- they’re n-not so m-mean if I h-help them a l-little.”

“You mean be their gopher, Sena-kun,” Mamori pointed out sadly. Sena shrugged uncomfortably. They both knew what he wasn’t saying: it was better than getting punched… or worse. Sena hated it when she looked at him _like that_. Pity and guilt in her eyes.

“Besides, it’s all I have left of Rikku-kun. And he… he was the only other friend I’ve ever had,” Sena whispered softly. Mamori’s face fell into lines of genuine sadness. She knew better than to hug him in the middle of the hallway, but she wished she could.

“That’s not true, Sena-kun! You have your soulmate. They’re your friend. They’re your _best friend_. You’ll always have them, even if you aren’t together yet,” Mamori pointed out brightly. She swung around, grin with pasted over her lips. “Now, why don’t you let me show you your classroom, okay? I remember exactly how to get there from last year. Ako-chan was in that classroom so I was there all the time.”

Sena sighed in relief and followed her gratefully.

…

Across Tokyo, a few weeks after his second year in Oujou Middle had begun, Shin’s pencil fell from nerveless fingers. Luckily, he was in study hall, his last class of the day before practice. The huge library swallowed up the sounds of his pencil clattering to the floor rather than echoing. Most of the classmates were fiddling with the strange glowing devices in their hands instead of doing their classwork, so they didn’t notice Shin get to his feet, arms shaking and heartbeat erratic. He needed to get to the nurse’s office. Something was… something was happening. Was… was his soulmate _dying_? he wondered in terrified bewilderment. His heartbeat was only going faster and _faster_ , like a rabbit being hunted by wolves. His chair clattered to the ground as he pushed away, legs wobbly and breath suddenly shallow and rapid. This time, they actually did look up, and while some gave him strangely wide-eyed stares, a few others displayed some motions of concern, half-rising or lifting an arm in his direction. He shook his head and staggered to the door.

He couldn’t let anyone know. Not even Sakuraba knew. Only the school nurse and headmaster and his coach knew, people in charge of him and his wellbeing only.

Too bad he couldn’t make it that far. The blow to the base of his spine had him crumpling to the ground and he barely managed to drag himself between an ornate stone water fountain and a bank of lockers before the shudders truly began. Panic was searing through his brain and he just wanted to curl into a ball, close his eyes, and disappear. No matter what he did, however, the panic, and the pain kept _going_.

It’s _him_. It’s _him_. Someone’s hurting _him!_ Shin realized, eyes widened as he wheezed. He clenched his teeth and fists, fingernails biting into the palms of his hands, as a blow to his leg and stomach had him almost gagging. Someone was hurting _him._  Shin should be there! He should be protecting him! He could do it! He was stronger and faster now. He could help his soulmate. It was what he was meant to do!

The pain disappeared as suddenly as it began, and somewhere in the panic and pain, now radiating from around his right eye and nose as well, and overwhelming _fear,_ he felt disgust and… self… loathing?

“N-No,” Shin murmured. He pressed his hand to his heart and closed his eyes. _No, it’s okay. Don’t think like that. It’s not your fault_. Slowly, he breathed as his therapist had taught him, something he hadn’t need in over two years, and hummed under his breath.

There was a burst of surprise and then… something like awe. Warmth, weak and small, bloomed behind his breastbone and the fear began to ebb away. Stoking that warmth was easy enough, he just let his head fall back and remembered his mother doing the same, imagined he was wherever his Half was, running his fingers through their hair and humming softly just like she’d done. _It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here now_ , he echoed his mother’s words, poured all of the caring and love she’d given him into that warmth in his chest and felt it grow.

The bell rang and people were crowding the hallways, celebrating the end of classes. But Shin ignored it for the sake of feeling pain become something like contentment and _gratitude_. Inside his head, he could hear the melody humming back to him, a beat or two behind, stuttering at the changes, but humming nonetheless.

He had no idea if his soulmate had heard his words. But he felt the meaning behind them, and he had heard the tune. And that would be enough for now.

…

The only reason Sena made it all the way home that day was because of the soothing tune in his head and the bright spot of warmth in his chest. Limping he may be, but he made it home and even snuck upstairs to shower and change all without his parents seeing him, humming quietly a song he had never heard before. He paused in front of the bathroom sink, wincing at the dark swelling around his eye.

“I guess I’ll just have to be even faster. They can’t hurt me if they can’t catch me,” Sena vowed stoutly, lighthearted more than he probably should be with an obvious shiner and over-protective parents to face. He just couldn’t help but feel _better_ with his connection to his soulmate so… _tangible_ in a way. He’d find a way to make sure his soulmate never felt his pain again, never felt his fear or his cowardice. Sena would run just like Rikku-kun had taught him and it’d be okay. Soon.

He set his alarm for almost two hours early than he normally did and dug up his old running shoes. Hopefully they wouldn’t fit too badly. He could get new ones after saving up his allowance a bit. He was smiling, a small smile to avoid re-opening his split lip, as he hobble-skipped his way downstairs.

… (Fifth Year)

Shin yanked his helmet off his head and poured water over his sweaty hair. It was only March, but the day was hot and _humid_. In front of him, the heaps of weary, sweaty, disenchanted substitutes of Deimon Devilbats were wheezing and gasping for air. Only two were still standing. Well, one was sort of doubled over on himself, tears leaking down his round, placid face before he threw back his head and _howled_ his misery. The angry-looking one had his fists propped on his hips and his strangely pointy teeth-bared. He looked like a wild animal, a cornered wild animal, fiercely nursing an injury he didn’t want anyone else to see. Hiding it away so as not to be exploited.

Shin almost felt pity, but he didn’t have time for that. Besides, a boy like this… Hiruma… wouldn’t appreciate such feelings.

The gentle caress of worry at the back of his mind reminded him he had things to do. He bowed towards the Deimon team with the rest of _his_ team. Then, turned to go, grunting at the hard blow to his upper back by Ootawara. Luckily, the past few months as his teammate and classmate had inured him against buckling under Ootawara’s unchecked gestures of exuberance.

“Hey, you bastard. You really didn't hold yourself back.”

“Shin-san, I think Hiruma-san is talking to you,” Sakuraba whispered, looking a little terrified and a _lot_ exhausted.

Shin would talk to Takami about upping Sakuraba's stamina regiment. He was far too winded for the minute amount of work he put into his plays. He turned towards Hiruma, the Deimon student, who looked especially strange and pointy, what an odd looking first year, and felt his eyebrow curve high up on his forehead.

"Even if the team is a new one, if I get haughty, then some day I'll definitely get beaten. For example, if a player running at light speed were to appear, I wouldn't be able to touch him. All of my strength wouldn't help..." Shin clenched his fists, staring down at his hands.  _Just as strength isn't enough now to catch him..._

"Kekeke, then I'll bring one."

Shin glanced back over at the smirking and weary faced Deimon player. His expression was carefully blank, but the challenge surprised him. 

“With the number of the lightspeed ace Eyeshield 21, I will bring one to fight you next time,” Hiruma stated, somehow _viciously._

Both eyebrows met his hairline, before Shin managed to control his expression again. Sakuraba took a look at Shin’s face and winced a little.

“When that time comes, I will crush him with all my strength,” Shin vowed, unrelenting. If he couldn’t face and then defeat the best, then what was the point? What was the whole point of pushing himself so hard and becoming stronger and faster, if there were someone better? He had to be the _best_.

He had to prove it. To his mother. To his father. And… he placed the heel of his palm to his chest and pressed against that flutter of concern. Beating rapid and soft, like hummingbird wings. He had to prove it to the soulmate he had already let down so many times. Prove that this long wait, and his aching loneliness, wasn’t in vain, that Shin was waiting at the end, whenever they finally managed to meet. Shin would be strong enough to make sure he never felt scared or lonely again.

…

Sena worried at his bottom lip while he paced the length of his room, up and down, down and up, zigzagging to break up the monotony or when his legs got tired of the same repetitive motion. From his bed, Pitt lounged and watched him silently, as cats are wont to do. Her black tail swished and her yellow eyes tracked his movements rather eerily, but Sena was too busy biting at his lip or his nails and flinching through some _spectacular_ thuds to his torso and back. When they finally ebbed away, leaving him with the echoing sense of satisfaction and triumph, the tiny not-quite-fourteen year stood stockstill in the middle of his room, eyes widening, as the most horrible thought ever crossed his mind.

_Was his soulmate a delinquent?!_

He felt like he’d just been in an hour long fight or wrestling match, the scent of grass and sweat tickling at his nose occasionally, and it all ended with a sense of _victory_?! Of a job well done? Either his soulmate was some sort of yankee hoodlum, or they were a _sumo wrestler_.

“I’m gonna die. My soulmate is gonna crush me to death,” Sena whimpered in terror, whole body trembling.

Pitt rolled her yellow eyes, totally unimpressed, then rolled over to sunbathe in a new, shinier patch of sunlight. Sena pouted and then threw himself down next to her. She yowled at him, jumped off the bed, and stalked out of the room, tail bottle-brush puffy and ramrod stiff. Sena grumbled under his breath and stared up at the ceiling. He really couldn’t picture himself with someone _huge_ or _burly_ or _violent_ or something like that. That’s not the kinda person he was. Surely, his soulmate would be kinder, someone quiet like him, who smiled a lot and gave good hugs and would rather sit and read comic books than go outside and _wrestle_ with people for _fun_ , right? Maybe a sweet, nice girl like Mamori-neechan, who could cook with him and laugh when he was clumsy and kissed his cheek goodnight. That’d be nice.

Or maybe a boy? He liked how boys looked. He wouldn’t mind if they were taller, most people were taller than him, even girls. But he wouldn’t want some scary _macho_  type, with the giant arms and head-crushing hands. Sena shuddered. That was too much like Juumonji-san and _his_ friends. No, maybe he’d have a nice boy with a really kind smile, who was smart and would help him do homework and played the piano so his mother would like him.

Whatever they looked like, Sena was sure they’d be perfect for him. That was the deal, right? He felt his eyes drifting shut, his body curling into a small ball in the patch of sunlight he’d annoyed Pitt out of. They’d have the perfect hugs and the perfect hands and the perfect voice and the perfect smiles, just for Sena. And he’d never say his best friend was a cat- not that he didn’t dearly appreciate Pitt, but she was a _cat_ \- or that his best friend was a girl who still licked a handkerchief and used it to clean his face during lunch.

No, his soulmate was much better than that…

…

Showering was a perfunctory activity. Even surrounded by a bunch of hormonal wound-up teenage boys, Shin ignored the goofing off and the towel snapping, and the others tended to move cautiously around him. They didn’t know he already had a soulmate, of course, but he supposed his serious demeanor warned them off. Sakuraba said it was the murderous scowl in anyone’s direction who came too close, but Shin had never felt murderous in his life. …except when he thought about those few times his soulmate was curled up in a ball somewhere getting _kicked_. _Then_ , he felt particularly murderous. But never in his locker room or towards his fellow teammates. That wasn’t very sportsmanlike.

Seeing as he was usually the last off the field- he tended to do 5km run and 20 minute stretch routine to cool down after every game- he was almost always the last in the showers, too.

Today was the first time he was fervently grateful for that. He felt something hot building in his gut for a while now, but he thought it was just the usual post-game adrenaline. After his uniform was thrown into his locker and he’d made his way to the showers, it became _very_ apparent just what was _actually_ happening. Both hands slapped against the stone tiled wall as steaming hot water pounded Shin’s back. The distant sounds of the other players in the locker room became indistinct and muffled, all too easily ignored as Shin squeezed his eyes shut and panted harshly. Water dripped down his spine, soaked through his already sweat-damp hair and burned along the corners of his eyes, but it was as distant and muffled a feeling as the sounds of his teammates.

Instead he could taste cotton on his mouth, feel fingernails clawing into the plush give of a pillow, sheets tangled around his legs. Everything was warm and soft and his could feel the firm give of a mattress beneath his hips.

…

Sena sighed, bones like liquid heat and muscles an achy sort of _good_. Water pounded on his back, sinking into the too tense muscles of his body, and steam curled over his bare skin like someone’s breath. Someone was panting harshly in his ear, or maybe it was coming from his own mouth. Everything was hazy and ephemeral, a dream made real.

While the friction against the front of his pants felt _so good_ , it also wasn’t enough. Whimpering and gasping, he reached down and pressed his hand against where he ached most.

The low-throated groan had him shivering, eyes blinking blearily only to shutter closed again.

If he opened his eyes, the dream would end and the _good_ would stop.

…

Shin felt his hands curl into fists as it hit him like a freight train. The heavy sleepiness that weighed down his limbs and eyes, the awkward stuttering pressure- Shin squeezed his eyes tight and let it play out. He’d had his own dreams like this before, but it had never slipped over into his soulmate’s consciousness. They’d never _Shared_ this before and Shin didn’t know why it was different now. For Shin, it had been awkward, image-less impressions that had him waking already slicked with cold sweat and _worse_. But maybe… maybe his soulmate was thinking of _him_? Maybe they had been dreaming of _Shin_ while arousal swept through them.

Shin had no idea why that thought had his knees shaking, carefully shorn nails cutting into the palms of his hands as the burning in his belly swept over him.

…

Sena woke with a start, gaze groggy and hips still grinding arrhythmically into his hand and mattress. A horrified blush covered him head to foot even as his body slumped boneless and sated.

 _Thank God I hadn’t changed out of my uniform. At least the sheets aren’t a mess,_ Sena thought with a humiliated laugh. He groaned while pushing himself up, cautiously looking at his hands that _stung_.

“H-Huh… why…?” Sena murmured, wincing at the gross sticky feeling in his underwear, but focusing on his hands. Nothing… nothing was wrong but he could _feel_ the sharp bites of pain.

Another ripple of _heat_ had him curling over, panting and gasping at the phantom feel of another climax. At the feel of _someone else’s_.

His eyes popped open wide, mouth slack and open around wheezes, and he could feel it again. The hot pressure of water on his back, the tickling sensation of it running down his thighs and calves and- _oh god oh god oh god that’s not me!_

Shame and disgust had him falling to the ground and scrambling to brace in the corner of his room, fingers digging into hair. _I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to_ \- He thought over and over, knees drawn up to his chest and his face, still flushed and sweaty, pressed to his black slacks.

Wet, cold tile against his equally damp skin had Sena shivering and he _couldn’t tell them apart_. It was so hard to pull himself back into his own body, clothed and spent and _horrified_ in his own room rather than what felt like a bathroom in someone else’s body.

He could feel reassurance bleeding through, too rapid breaths pointedly slowing, but Sena shook his head frantically, whimpering in shame.

“You’ve never… _you_ didn’t do this, _I_ did, I know it was me. I did something so… so _wrong_. I’m so sorry, so sorry, I’m so sorry!”

He startled, tears falling as a pressure squeezed at his hand. A pressure that wasn’t supposed to be there. He dropped his right hand to his knees and stared at it. A hand, larger than his own, was gripping tightly as that… that _melody_  hummed in his mind.

Soothing, reassuring, and _forgiving_.

Sena’s fingers twitched around a hand that wasn’t there and he let out a broken, raspy laugh.

“Okay, I get it. It’s okay,” Sena whispered. He lay his cheek on his knees and stared at his empty palm. The fleeting imprint of someone else’s hand was gone, but Sena could pretend, if he concentrated, that the feeling was still there. “Of _course_ the first time _that_ ever happens, I drag my soulmate into it. Just my luck,” Sena sighed wryly.

For the first time, Sena had some idea that maybe his soulmate was _older_. They hadn’t seemed all that shocked at what Sena had gone through. He quickly shook away the thought. It was bad enough that he’d dragged his soulmate into his half-awake fantasies. The idea of that his soulmate was some _adult_ getting dragged into a 14-year-old’s first forays into puberty was pretty damn disturbing. Sena groaned again and prayed fervently for his soulmate to be another teenager.

…

Shin sighed and ran his hand through his soaked hair. Tilted his head back far enough to knock into cold tile behind him. He was distinctly uncomfortable and quickly getting cold, but he wasn’t sure he could stand yet.

It could’ve been worse. He could’ve been around a lot of people, instead of relatively alone. He was in the showers so it was easy enough to wash away the evidence. And he was pretty sure he’d managed to calm down his soulmate. He closed his eyes to remember feeling that smaller, trembling hand squeeze back as the panic subsided. His soulmate would probably take pains not to allow something like this to happen again, if the immediate reaction after the fact told Shin anything.

As he stood up to wash up properly, Shin set up his own fervent wish to find his soulmate _soon_. If only to put an end to these inconvenient withdrawal symptoms and to comfort his soulmate better than he could now. He had had no idea if holding his own hand like he would someone else's would work or not, but he'd concentrate on the feeling as hard as he could and it had gotten through. The flicker of amusement and relief had been a sweet victory, even more than today's game. (99-0 was not his idea of a fair game.)

… (Sixth Year)

This was not what Shin wanted. Eight months. Eight months of feeling like there was an empty hole in his chest that ached every time he breathed. Eight months of increasing irritation and shorter temper. He trained harder, pushed himself further, became more and more taciturn. Sleeping was fitful and restless, dreams short and fleeting. Occasionally hearing voices at his school or home that weren’t there when he turned to seek out the source.

The worst, though, was that it had been over _eight months_ since he’d last _felt_ anything from his soulmate. Even the colors began to fade faster. So many hues becoming fuzzy memories it had been so long since he’d seen them.

He wanted an end to the symptoms, yes, but _not like this_. He didn’t want them to slip away and leave him with the dregs. He didn’t want to wake up with hands reaching out into empty air from trying to catch his Other Half in a dream.

Shin was losing his connection to his soulmate and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

…

Sena flinched and gasped, spinning around. He could’ve sworn he saw… saw a student in a white uniform. With blurred features instead of a face…

“Sena-kun! Are you paying attention? It’s time for lunch!” Mamori interrupted cheerfully. He jumped and gawped up at her where she was leaning over the desk and smiling. His first day in Deimon had been an… eventful one, but lunch with Mamori would be nice.

He pushed aside the wistful sadness as her eyes remained a light, toneless grey. Not the pretty shining blue he used to see.

“Why are you so sad? You should be excited! You said you made a friend this morning, right?” Mamori prompted eagerly while sitting in front of him and opening up her bento box. He blinked down at the second bento box placed in front of him, wrapped in one of Mamori’s raccoon handkerchiefs.

“I have my own lunch, Mamori-neechan,” Sena said, holding it up to prove it. Mamori ‘pfft’ed.

“You’re a growing boy, almost sixteen. You need to eat as much as you can. Now, who was this friend?”

“K-Kurita-senpai?” Sena said hesitantly as he opened both his bentos and sighed at the amount of it all. And missed the sad, yearning look that crossed her face and quickly disappeared.

“I know Kurita-kun! He’s a very good person. You haven’t… you haven’t met anyone else have you?” Mamori asked anxiously.

Sena thought back to the trio that had followed from his middle school to here and quickly shook his head. He _technically_ knew them already, not just met them today. So it wasn’t a _lie_. Mamori sighed in relief.

“So when are you going to introduce me?” Sena asked before she could ask _him_ any other questions. He shoved food in his mouth quickly so she had to talk herself instead of turning it around on him.

Mamori blinked, baffled, though. “Introduce you?”

“To your soulmate. You met him last year, right? You said it was complicated, but you’d introduce me when I got into Deimon this year. I got in! Where is he?” Sena asked, cheeks bulging with rice.

Mamori smiled brightly and leaned over to wipe rice away. “It’s even more complicated, sadly. He hasn’t been himself since his other soulmate left school. We haven’t spoken in since last year.”

Sena gaped at her. At the look of disgust delicately crinkling her nose, he snapped his mouth shut and swallowed painfully. Ignoring the tears in his eyes from the too large swallow, he leaned forward. “He has _two_ soulmates?! You didn’t say that! Why didn’t you _tell me_?” the first year all but interrogated, shocked and worried. Mamori shrugged lightly.

“It’ll all turn out right in the end. But I know he needs his space right now. I was very good friends with his Other, too. We still talk and I told him I’d keep him updated. I just hope it works out _sooner_ rather than later. There’s a reason why he has two of us,” Mamori said sadly.

“Wow… but _two soulmates_. That’s… that’s really rare. And soulmates are already less than half the population,” Sena breathed out.

“Eat your meat, Sena-kun. You need it,” Mamori ordered briskly. Sena was shoving it in his mouth before he even thought about it. Her mom voice was very effective on him. “What about you? You haven’t talked about yours in months, Sena-kun. I’m getting worried about you.”

Sena stared down at his bentos, chewing slowing so he could gather the right words to say. Finally he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t meet her eyes, his own shifting off to the side as he chuckled awkwardly. “This’ll be the sixth year, you know? I think it’s starting to just… _end_. I don’t feel their emotions anymore. And even my dreams are pretty rare or, well, they aren’t even really dreams much anymore. It’s fine. I guess our connection is just… kinda giving up on us.”

It hurt saying it out loud like that. That empty place inside him feeling like a _wound_ , bleeding and aching and torn. But he only chuckled and stared down at his chopsticks.

He spluttered as Mamori wrapped her hands around his, completely ignoring the chopsticks. Glancing up, he met her serious eyes over her determined frown.

“Don’t you say that, Sena-kun! Don’t you give up on your bond. It’s important, _so_ important. They’re looking for you, whoever they are, so don’t you give up on _them_. Promise me, Sena-kun, promise me you won’t give up,” Mamori demanded fiercely. Sena gulped, but nodded. For a moment, her eyes flashed _blue_.

He wondered if he really saw it or if it was the trick of the light.

Because he had already given up. Sena just had no idea how to tell Mamori that.

…

Pain radiated from every inch of his body. His ribs felt broken, his insides pulp, and his _legs_. Oh wow, his poor _legs_. But he managed to make it across the field, his team’s tiny line of exhausted alternates, the weeping Kurita and the stone-faced Hiruma, and _him_. In his eyeshield and his fake reputation. The number 40 seemed to shine in front of him, taunting. The ace Sena had barely managed to defeat. Once.

He bowed, hands clenched in fists, eyes on Shin’s feet. Until

“Oujou will be the team that takes parts in the Christmas Bowl,” his low, rough voice announced, short and brusque.

Sena blinked and looked up. And just for a fleeting moment, met Shin’s dark eyes from behind his eyeshield. He looked… _stern_ and _determined_ , before he turned and walked away with his team. Sena stared after him, blinking rapidly, because suddenly his vision seemed… _different_. He was walking back with his team, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut and blinking, as if his vision would clear if he just blinked _enough_. He heard Mamori calling out his name and hurried around the building to change.

 _Gotta hurry, gotta hur…ry_ His frenzied manta ended the moment he tore off his helmet.

And the world BLAZED with color. He stood, mouth gaping and eyes wide, as green and blue and white and brown and red and _so many colors_ burned across his gaze. Tears slipped down his face, but he couldn’t blink anymore. He couldn’t chance closing his eyes and _losing_ this.

Only Mamori’s voice, the concern rising, and the increasing pitch of growls from Cerberus, broke him from his reverie. He re-dressed in a daze, almost putting his shirt on his legs and his socks on his hands before everything got put on right.

Green. His uniform was _green_. And his tie was _red_. His amefuto uniform was so so _red_. He held it in his shaking hands, his mouth in a wide, tremulous smile. Everything was blurred with tears, but it was all so _colorful_.

“I found you,” Sena whispered.

And saying it aloud had reality crashing back down and his heart fell to his toes.

Because there was only one person his soulmate could be.

And he’d just walked away after smashing Sena’s face into the turf a thousand times and covering Sena’s body with hand-shaped bruises.

 _My soulmate is Shin Seijuuro_.

“Oh my god,” Sena whispered.

His helmet fell to the ground with a thud.

…

Sena braced himself against the same stone pillar he’d leaned on a dozen times or more. Carefully, the first year braced himself on the sun-warmed stone and peered around the pillar, teetering on his toes so he could squint through the distance. There! His heart pounded against his breastbone and something like satisfaction filled him. A smile that was probably dopey and drugged spread over his face as he watched the not-quite short with a stocky, broad-shouldered build teenager run at his teammates. They fell like pins, but Sena kept his eyes on the teenager-cum-wrecking-ball.

“So _this_ is where you go? I thought your afternoon jogs took a while.”

Sena let out a short scream and almost brained himself on the pillar in front of him.

“Whoa! Dude! Are you okay?!” Monta exclaimed, rushing forward to help Sena sit back up.

“You _sc-scared_ me,” Sena protested, rubbing his forehead and shaking like a leaf.

Monta snorted like an unimpressed bull. “I think that’s a MAX understatement. You bleedin’?”

“No, I don’t think so. HOW DID YOU FIND ME?!” Sena shrieked suddenly, pupils dilating to pinpricks and hands flailing.

Monta braced his fists on his bony hips and preened smugly. “I followed ya, duh.”

Sena deadpanned at him, even as his face paled. Monta glanced around and whistled lowly.

“So, this is Oujou? You spying on the enemy? Didn’t think you did stuff like that, Kobayakawa. I’m impressed,” Monta joked, rubbing his nose and grinning.

Sena started to protest, head already shaking, but then realized that was probably the perfect cover. “Y-Yeah, th-that’s it. I’m s-spying.”

“Hello, excuse me?” a sweet girlish voice interrupted.

Both boys screamed and latched onto each other in surprise. A girl in an Oujou uniform with a bright orange armband blinked at them. They quickly jumped away from each other and laughed awkwardly.

“S-Sorry! We’re j-just l-looking!”

“We totally weren’t spying or nothing!”

Sena deadpanned at Monta again.

The girl blinked and then clapped her hands excitedly. “OH! Are you transfers?! We almost _never_ get transfers! You’re here to look at the campus, aren’t you?!”

Monta and Sena stared at her. Then looked down at themselves. Both were in their training gear, nothing Deimon related on it. They glanced at each other and, without words, agreed to play along.

“Sure thing! We’re here on a sports scholarship!” Monta agreed eagerly.

“Oh, fantastic! You’ll be staying in the dormitories then! All sports members live in the dormitories Monday through Friday. Though, on game weekends, you’ll stay the whole week. Do you have your orientation things?” she asked cheerfully. Monta and Sena blushed and shook their heads. “Not a problem. I’ll show you around and tell you all about it.”

“Do you think we could… wear the uniforms?” Monta asked slowly.

“Monta-kun!” Sena hissed.

“Oh, yes. You’d both look so precious in them, wouldn’t you? You’re both so small and cute! Almost all our sports players are so big and buff, I’m…” she trailed off and eyed them with worry. “I’m sure you’ll survive if you work hard!” she said decisively. She led them towards the front doors then.

“ _We’ll survive?_ ” Sena repeated hoarsely.

“Just play along. We’re gonna look so cool in those uniforms!” Monta grinned eagerly.

The tour of the school took about two _hours_. It was huge and ostentatious. Windows weren’t just glass, they were _stained_ glass, the shadows multi-hued and beautiful on the shining grey stone. Suits of armor were gleaming in almost every corner and portraits of donors and alumni in ornate _real gold_ frames hung from walls. A lot of them looked… like there were wearing… _crowns_? Their steps echoed in the cavernous hallways, but their guide’s cheery chatter kept it from feeling ominous. The shining white uniforms, that were a little too big for them, made both Monta and Sena walk taller, shoulders back and chins a little higher. As if just the uniform bestowed some sort of pedigree on them.

“And over here? These are the sports dormitories. The girls’ dorm is over there, no boys allowed!” Sakiko, their guide, teased with a wink. Monta and Sena both blushed and nodded fervently. “But the boys’ is right here. Oh! Look, the amefuto team is just coming up from practice! You said you were here to play track-” Monta was apparently a really good liar sometimes- “but they're our most famous team. The White Knights almost made it all the way to the Christmas Bowl last year, you know! They were called the Golden Era and the whole school knows that Shin-san is the best player in Kantou.”

Sena inhaled sharly, heart beating too fast, at the sound of his name. Monta glanced over at him in surprise, only to double-take seeing the blush on Sena’s face and his wide eyes searching the upcoming group of giant players.

“We missed the practice. C’mon, we should get going,” Monta whispered as Sakiko waved and cheered the amefuto players nearing.

“Y-Yeah,” Sena said absently. He froze, body almost thrumming like a plucked string, as Shin finally appeared, jogging at the rear of the group, Takami and Ootawara at his sides. Sakuraba was still in the hospital, Sena remembered. The few times Sena had seen Shin, he’d been with Sakuraba and Ootawara.

He wondered painfully if they were friends. If Shin wanted _Sakuraba_ , famous and handsome _Sakuraba,_ to be his soulmate. He didn’t even notice his hand coming up to clench at the fabric directly over his heart.

“Sena?” Monta’s voice was tinny and hollow, like an echo at the other side of a tunnel.

Because Shin was approaching, his face stern and frowning, hair shiny and damp from a shower. Spots of his white shirt were translucent from water splotches and the cotton of his short sleeves was stretched too tight over his arms. His black pants made his legs seem longer than they were, but maybe it was just because he was _so close_ and Sena didn’t have the stupid eyeshield over his eyes.

 _Oh no!_ Sena felt his heart constrict with panic. _He wasn’t wearing the eyeshield_. If Shin looked at him, met his eyes, he’d _know_. Sena pinwheeled backwards, only to slam into Monta. Monta yelped and they began to stumble and flail, trying to regain their balance and not fall even as they kept stepping on each other’s toes.

“S-Sorry!” Sena gasped as a hand grabbed the back of his shirt to hold him up. Ootawara was grinning as he set Monta on his own feet.

“Watch what you’re doing, little shrimps. You’re gonna get run over next time,” Ootawara laughed, patting Monta’s back so hard he almost toppled into Sena again.

If Ootawara was helping Sena…

“You aren’t an Oujou student,” rumbled an all too familiar voice at Sena’s back.

Sena flinched.

“Not yet we aren’t! We’re transfers! Just looking around before we move in. We better go though, gotta train to catch back home!” Monta answered when Sena just fish-mouthed at him uselessly.

“No, that’s not right,” Shin started. Sena could _feel_ his eyes boring into his back.

“What are you talking about? Of course it is! It’s not like we’re spies or anything! That’s just crazy! Look, we even have uniforms.”

“I just gave you those,” Sakiko piped up obliviously.

Monta eeped under whatever glare Shin was giving him.

“I don’t know you, but that’s Eye-”

“WE BETTER GO CATCH THAT TRAIN!” Sena shrilled, darting forward to grab Monta’s wrist. Before he could get away, he felt a hand wrap around his own wrist, yanking him halfway around. With a loud yelp, Sena stumbled for balance and. Looked. Up.

Brown eyes met darker brown.

Shin’s mouth went slack and his eyes widened. Such dark brown eyes… But his grip also loosened and Sena knew only one thing:  _Get the hell away_.

“Brown…” Shin whispered. Sena’s heart stopped dead.

“GO!” Monta shrieked, yanking Sena out of Shin's loose grip and they both raced away.

“What about the uniforms?! We just stole uniforms from Oujou!” Sena exclaimed as he zipped towards the closest subway station. He had to hold himself back for Monta’s sake and it was _killing him_.

“We’ll mail ‘em back!” Monta replied easily. Sena blinked. Actually that wasn’t a bad idea.

He frowned suddenly. “What’s that sound?”

They both looked back. To see the tiny figure slowly gaining on them. And getting bigger. Both their eyes widened when the person got close enough and they could make out Shin’s face.

“OH MY GOD! RUN FASTER!” Monta shrieked.

“YOU’RE THE ONE THAT’S TOO SLOW!” Sena shrilled back.

They jumped down the steps into the subway station, almost crying in relief as the subway pulled into the stop. They both had to fumble past layers of clothes to their own under the Oujou uniforms to dig out their train passes. Just as they swiped, Sena looked back and saw Shin skid over the floor from where he’d leapt off the stairs.

“ _Oh my god! He’s HERE!_ ” Sena all but screamed. With an explosive push of his legs, he slammed into Monta’s back and sent them tumbling into the subway car. They scrambled to their feet, panting and sweaty, just as the door closed.

Time froze and Sena didn’t even hear the warning over the intercom about running in the station or onto the train. Because Shin was _staring_ at him, eyes wide and sweat dripping down the sides of his face.

The train whooshed away and Sena slumped to his knees.

“Sena, we did it! I’ll get you back for that tackl- hey, you okay? Sena?” Monta asked, shaking Sena’s shoulder.

“He saw me. He _knew me_ ,” Sena whispered woodenly. “He wasn’t supposed to…”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Monta asked curiously. Sena shook his head.

“N-Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Of course not! But tomorrow at practice, I’m not gonna hold back!”

Sena laughed stiltedly.

…

Back at the Oujou Station, Shin’s hands curled into fists. His breath was tight and short, and he knew he needed to regain control. Take deeper breaths. Make his way calmly back to school.

But… he couldn’t.

He’d found him. _He’d found him_. Six years later and he’d _finally found him_.

And his soulmate had run away. His soulmate had been _terrified_ of him. For the first time in almost a year, Shin had _felt_ his soulmate again. And all he’d felt was fear.

The colors that shone around him were a mockery. Taunting him at how close he had come and how far his soulmate had gone.

Shin had already forgotten the color of his soulmate’s eyes and that made the ache worse.

The next afternoon, Sena trudged towards the sports store with Monta. The day had been too long, every moment dragged out like a dream he couldn't wake up from. He'd spent yesterday evening, well into the night, re-reading his dream journal from years ago. Pages and pages of Shared dreams, and Sena's theories and thoughts and wishes, all in that tiny paperbound book that remained a steady, perfect purple. Nothing in there had made it better. Nothing had changed the fact that he messed it all up. That their first moment... moments... had been ruined time and time again. Mostly because of  _him_. Weariness and fatigue pulled him down. Running felt too slow, his body ungainly, unattached, like someone else’s that he’d only rented instead of owned. Monta glanced over at him worriedly, but Sena couldn’t bring himself to pull up his lips into a smile or put on fake assurances.

“Hey, Sena, I know we… I know we’re new friends, but you can talk to me, yanno?” Monta muttered, scratching his cheek as they jogged side by side. Sena gulped and dropped his eyes to the ground.

“I know. Th-thanks, Monta-kun. I just… It’s complicated.”

“You weren’t spying on Oujou yesterday, were you?” Monta said abruptly. Sena squeaked and glanced over at Monta’s profile. That looked much more serious than usual.

“N-No… not really,” Sena finally admitted, throat dry. Monta nodded.

“Hey, look, the sports store! Maximum effort!” Monta exclaimed. Sena smiled in relief. Maybe Monta wasn’t quite so oblivious as Sena thought.

The rhythmic tapping of another runner had Sena absently moving out of the way and looking up.

Into… _Shin’s face_. Sena froze, hand over his heart, breath short and rapid. _Oh god, Oh god, did he see me? Maybe he didn’t recognize me? Oh god, of course he did he just saw me yesterday_. _But he doesn’t know I’m Eyeshield 21, so at least he doesn’t know just how much of a failure I am. Not really_ , Sena thought desperately as his heart tattooed against his sternum.

“You’re…”

Sena jumped and grimacing, eyes going wide.

“You’re Eyeshield 21, aren’t you?”

And Sena blurted out “Ye-yes?” in shock before he could think about it. He turned slowly, pupils pinpoints and shoulders stiff and high around his ears.

Shin stared back silently, mouth turned down.

…

Shin stared down at Eyeshield 21 and felt his hands curl into fists. He normally didn’t jog out this far. His feet just hadn’t wanted to stop, as if he could run past the bile coating the back of his throat. As if he could run through the disappointment settled in his gut. As if... running fast enough meant he could catch his soulmate and change that fear into something _more_. Into what it was _supposed_ to be. Even now Eyeshield 21 cowered in front of him, tiny, slender body trembling like a leaf, barely able to meet his eyes. Shin had no idea… how to _fix_ this. How to make it _right_. He could remember every shove, every tackle, every blow on the field during their last game. He couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t regret doing what he was supposed to do.

But it had turned what should have been joyous into something like _this_.

“Hey! Damn it! Gimme ma money!” yelled another boy’s voice. It shocked Eyeshield out of his quiet stupor and something like worry crossed the younger boy’s face.

“Oh no! We got robbed?!” the boy exclaimed.

“Interesting.” Eyeshield startled and looked over at him. Those big brown eyes were bemused. Shin pulled on his gloves. “There’s a traffic jam ahead. With our speed we could catch them. You come up on their seven o’clock position.”

Eyeshield took a second to gape. And then, Shin saw it. The firming of his narrow jaw, his lips thinning and his body moving into a crouch, legs braced on the concrete. “All right.”

They both exploded forward, together.

No one had run _with_ Shin before. No one had been able to. But this diminutive boy matched him pace for pace. Something like triumph had Shin’s chest filling, and for a glorious few minutes, he felt _whole_. Not _Half_. Wind shoved the hair out of Eyeshield’s face and his fierce determination shined from his eyes.

There was no fear. Just the need to get to his goal.

 _This_ was Eyeshield. _This_ was his soulmate.

As Eyeshield and the receiver who’d been mugged counted their recovered money, Shin watched the thieves get put in the back of a police cruiser, pensive and quiet.

Eyeshield was scared of him _now_. But under it all was the boy that beat him on the field. Someone who was knocked down and got up again and again. Surely, if they met again, if they fought with all their might, they’d see each other as equals and that would be enough. If Shin got stronger, and pushed himself harder, and Eyeshield did the same, then maybe there wouldn’t be fear. There would only be mutual respect. Shin would prove his worth as an opponent and a soulmate. And Eyeshield could do the same. Then, maybe…

He clenched his hand into a fist, glaring at the black fabric stretched tight over his knuckles.

“Than-thank you,” Eyeshield said from behind him.

“Thanks!”

Shin turned to look over his shoulder. Eyeshield looked expectant, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, but he was meeting Shin’s eyes now. This instance of _victory_ had put strength in his gaze and stance.

“You’ve found yourselves a receiver?”

The other small kid with the big hands- good for a receiver- stepped back. Ah, he was also the other student who’d been on the campus yesterday.

“Get yourselves ready before the fall tournament. Oujou will be much stronger by then,” Shin stated bluntly, eyes glancing away. He couldn’t look at Eyeshield, not when he was fighting the need to close the distance between them. He wasn’t ready yet. He didn’t _want_ Shin yet. Shin glanced back one more time, cold and controlled. “I will be waiting for you in the finals.”

He forced his feet to run _away_ from where he’d be running _to_ for the past six years. It was like ripping himself open. He gritted his teeth and didn’t look back. Surely Eyeshield would understand that Shin would be waiting  _for him_  in the finals. Waiting for that indomitable spirit to face him without cowering. Shin could wait a little longer.

…

Sena watched Shin go and felt something in him crack.

“Wow, he’s so cool. _I’ll be waiting at the finals_ ,” Monta repeated, voice overly deep and face too stern.

“N-No, n-not like th-that,” Sena stammered, trying to laugh. But his face felt twisted up wrong and his eyes were burning.

“Sena? Wow, _Sena_ , what-”

“He didn’t… he didn’t _care_. He didn’t _say_ anything. I know he knows,” Sena blurted. He couldn’t see Shin anymore, but he didn’t know if it was because he was out of sight or because of the tears filming his eyes. “He didn’t say anything. I’ve been waiting and waiting and he _doesn’t care_.”

“Sena, what’s- what are you talking about? Why are you crying?!” Monta flailed, concern and panic pitching his voice high. Sena turned to him with a wobbly smile.

“Your eyes are black. And your jersey is red.”

Monta froze, mouth dropping open.

“The river is kinda greyish blue and the sky is blue and the grass is green and that money is a pinkish-purplish on pinkish-yellow and _I’ve been waiting six years to find him and he just ran the opposite direction!_ ” Sena burst out, shoulders shaking and head falling. Tears dotted the cement between his feet and Monta’s gentle, hesitant hand on his shoulder only made the sobbing worse. “I knew it! I knew I wasn’t good enough! He took one look at me and _ran_ , just like they said. I’m small and weak and cowardly and he beat me almost every single time in our game and-” Sena let out a strangled, choked parody of a laugh as he rubbed at his eyes with his arm. “No wonder he never looked for me. He’s _perfect_ and I’m just _me_.”

“Hey, whoa, Sena, now hold on a minute.”

“It’s true!”

“That’s _crap_!” Monta argued angrily. Sena sniffled in surprise and looked up. Monta was glaring, hands in fists and propped on his hips. “You’re _max awesome_ , okay? I’ve seen how hard you work and how hard you try. You’re _Eyeshield 21_. He’s just bent out of shape you _can_ beat him. Cuz you _did_ , remember? Everyone knows you beat him! He’s not perfect, he’s… he’s a _sore loser_! Max!” Monta declared angrily.

Sena sniffled again and frowned. “I d-don’t think-”

“No, you’re not thinking clearly. Listen to me, okay?” He threw his wiry arm around Sena’s neck and dragged him close. “He’s all bent outta shape that he lost to you and then found out you’re his soulmate. He’s a dick.”

“Monta-kun!”

“I said listen!” Monta cleared his throat pointedly as Sena’s mouth clicked shut in shock. “So, whatcha you gotta do is show him who’s _boss_ , okay? Make him regret being a jerk. You gotta get to the finals, with me, and we’ll beat him and he’ll feel like a real chump. He’ll come begging for forgiveness and then _you_ can drop him like a hot potato. Because you’re _awesome_ and deserve better than that bastard! Soulmate or not!”

“M-Monta-kun,” Sena stammered, eyes shiny and mouth tipping up. Monta glanced away, cheeks a little red and mouth twisted to the side.

“Anyway. We better go buy the stuff before Hiruma shoots us dead or sics Cerberus on us or something.”

Sena let out a shaky, half-terrified laugh and let Monta drag him to the store.

…

The rest of the year passed in a blur. Of goals met and Death Marches completed and the few snatches of moments shared with Shin.

Moments that left Sena shaky and _confused_. No, confused was a bad word for it. It didn’t quite capture it. Bewildered? Confounded? Complete and utterly _mystified_ by everything Shin did and said?

He watched the drizzling rain fall outside his family home, chewing on beef thoughtfully. (He couldn’t eat beef now without thinking about Shin and wasn’t that just _stupid_ and weird?!) His parents had long since given up asking about his soulmate, so neither had any idea about Shin. He wondered if he should tell them. But then he’d have to explain about amefuto and he just wasn’t ready for that. They had both noticed him getting taller and bulking up slightly, but hadn’t pressed for answers. His mother had even supplemented his diet without many questions. It helped that Mamori had come up with a better diet plan for him and given it to his mother. Something about a growing boy’s needs or something to explain for it.

He sighed and shoved the last of the braised beef into his mouth and set his chopsticks aside.

“May I be excused?” he asked quietly.

Shuuma and Mihae glanced at one another.

“Of course, sweetie. Get some rest. You’ve been looking so exhausted these days,” Mihae replied easily, reaching over to pat his hand. “Exercise is good for you, dear, but don’t push it.”

“And whatever it is… is it still worth it?” Shuuma asked, eyes on his paper. Sena smiled faintly.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Then, keep up the hardwork, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

Sena got up and bowed to both his parents before trudging up the stairs to his room, Pitt at his heels. The moment he lay on his bed, hands behind his head, Pitt leapt onto his stomach and curled up in a ball. He grunted and laughed lightly, absently stroking her silky fur as he stared up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow was the Oujou game. He’d _made it_. He’d made it _all the way_. He’d faced down the Taiyo Sphinxes, the NASA Aliens and Panther-kun, he’d faced down the Nagas and Kakei and Akaba, and he’d come out on top. He’d had his whole team behind him but he’d had his _own_ battles that he’d _won_.

So why did tomorrow’s game mean so damn much? Was it because it was the first game he had ever lost, about to be replayed? Was it only because of Shin and facing him again?

He had spent six years desperate to find his soulmate only to be treated like a _rival_ for Shin. An opponent to overcome. Shin had admitted he could see colors, they sometimes still slipped into shared dreams- shaky, forgotten too easily, flashes of images before he woke up gasping- but Shin had never sought him out. Never tried to talk about what they _were_. A half year of limbo that Sena couldn’t tell was better or worse than the five-ish years that came before it.

Would he rather still be searching? Still be _Halved_? Rather than be like this?

Would winning the finals tomorrow finally prove to Shin he was a worthy soulmate? Would Shin finally look at him and just see _Sena_ and _want_ him?

Sena closed his eyes and placed a hand over his heart.

And what did _Sena_ want? Did he really want someone who’d considered him _not good enough_ to decide he suddenly was? Didn’t he want someone who would want him and be proud of him even at his weakest? Who could love him for the shy and cowardly parts as much for his bravest and strongest parts? He was proud of everything he’d accomplished, but did he really have to _prove_ himself to someone just to feel worthy of being _whole_?

In the end, though, Sena supposed it didn’t matter. He smiled wryly and sighed. He would still do his best tomorrow to win. For Kurita-san and Hiruma-san and Musashi-san. For Monta-kun and even for the Ha-Ha brothers. For Yuki-san and Mamori-neechan. For Suzuna and Taki-kun.

And for himself. He’d learn how to be whole without Shin, even if it hurt.

…

Shin sat on the bench on the sidelines, ignoring the rain and the sounds of his teammates gearing themselves up to play. He was staring down at the helmet in his hands silently, blocking out the world. He couldn’t… he couldn’t allow himself to think of what this game meant. He couldn’t allow himself to let his feelings and his wishes become weaknesses. His teammates were relying on him. He had a promise, a half year long promise, to keep.

If he kept his promise though, if he threw Sena down and Sena couldn’t get back up…

What would happen then? What was he proving?

Shin closed his eyes and tched loudly between his teeth. Shin was not made for doubts. He was a player. He was meant to work hard and _excel_ , as much as he was capable. After all these months, after how far they both- Sena and Shin- had come, Shin’s only recourse now was to play with everything in him. To hold nothing back and…

 _Believe_ that Sena was everything he knew Sena could be.

He had to believe that Sena would always get back up. He had to believe that Sena had grown strong enough and fast enough and brave enough to meet Shin’s eyes as an equal at last. Rivals and soulmates and _equals_.

Shin had to believe that Sena would look at him and feel no more fear.

...

Sena wheezed and panted behind his eyeshield. Instead of the light shade of green, the clouds above him with their drizzles of rain were grey. He could feel himself shaking, but it wasn’t because of the cold mud caking his bare arms or the soaking wet clothes sticking to him. It wasn’t even because of the pain he could feel building under the numbing adrenaline.

No, it was because Shin was standing over him. Looking down at him silently, eyes weighty and _disappointed_ , in a world of grey.

Whatever proof Sena might or might not have needed, he wasn’t earning it now. There was nothing left in him. His only skill, the only way to win, the only way he could be Shin’s equal, had been ripped away from him. How could he get back up and keep trying? How could he stand only to lose again and again, at the hands of his own soulmate.

The soulmate that couldn’t even look at him with pride.

His stare was cold and blank, as if Sena was unrecognizable to him.

_You power— that is all of it? The one I acknowledged as my greatest rival, the one who breaks under so little?_

Sena couldn’t find the wherewithal to move until Shin stepped away. He watched, breath short and choppy, as Shin walked back to his huddle. Leaving Sena sitting in the mud and rain, shame and pain coursing through him. He bit down on his lip and dropped his face, hoping to hold it back. What use were tears here?

It hurt _so much_. Because he’d tried _so hard_. He’d worked so hard! He’d suffered so much. And in the end it came down to nothing, all for nothing.

Because his soulmate had looked at him and walked away again.

He had truly and completely let his soulmate down as well as his rival.

…

Don’t look back.

Don’t stop.

Trident Tackle. Blitz. Ballista. Sagittarius.

Block. Run. Run. _Run_.

It wasn’t time for distractions. It wasn’t time for doubts.

An arm reached out, and beyond it, a gleaming blue shield and gritted teeth. He moved automatically, blocking and Spear Tackling. But as he watched the number 21 roll over the dirt, Shin felt it return. Just a little. That spark that only Sena Kobayakawa inspired.

Almost. _Almost_.

He can’t stop yet. But when Sena faced him down, Shin saw no fear.

The spark  _burned_.

…

Sena fell to his knees, eyes squeezed shut, as the wordless yell ripped from his throat. _He did it!_

_He did it._

The game ended and the ball was _in his hands_ and he’d _made it_. He’d made the last touchdown and _won the game_. His team was suddenly all around him, teary eyed and grinning and yelling and cheering. The roars of the crowd had Sena’s heart thudding, his whole _body_ elated. Mud splashed over their ankles and tears and snot were pouring down Kurita's face. Monta was clambering over him, rubbing at his wet hair with his knuckles and hugging him around the neck too tightly until they were swept apart to cheer with the others. 

“We won! We did it!” Sena laughed and cried at once, breaths harsh and panting.

His eyes darted over to the side to meet Shin’s.

And the people around him died away. It was just them again, just the two of them. There wasn’t disappointment in his eyes. Sena yanked the helmet off his head, breathing in deep and closing his eyes. He wasn’t supposed to expect anything. He didn’t _need_ anything-

His eyes blinked open as Shin began walking towards him. Sena let his helmet fall to his side, confusion pulling his brows together as his head tilted slightly. Shin’s helmet was tossed to the side and Sena turned slightly, watching it bounce over the muddy grass. Someone was crying like a wounded rhino, and his friends were still cheering, but Sena’s eyes were locked on the white and blue helmet rolling through the mud to a stop.

“Eh…” Sena looked up, just in time to see Shin loom over him. Both hands clasped Sena’s shoulders and-

_What the hell?!_

Sena’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated, and his helmet fell from nerveless fingers.

But that was… that was definitely Shin’s mouth. On _his_ mouth. Even as his mind screamed- something like a mix between a keyboard smash and _oh my god oh my god oh my god_ \- Sena felt himself sinking into it.

It was _Shin_. Shin, his _soulmate_ , was kissing him like he was desperate for it. Shin’s mouth pressed too hard to his, hard enough to hurt, and Sena was pretty sure his teeth were vibrating from where Shin’s had clacked against his. Their noses were smooshed awkwardly and Shin’s hands were clutching too tightly. But it didn’t _matter_. It was everything Sena needed, had needed, for years.

Then, Sena remembered why they’d been waiting, for at least this past school year, and tore himself away. Shin’s strength was still more than Sena’s, so he couldn’t exactly push the larger linebacker away, not when he was still trembling with exertion. However, he yanked himself far enough away he could glare up at Shin’s face. A face that looked as shell-shocked and unfocused as Sena felt. Sena would appreciate that when his own brain wasn't reeling in his skull with confused yet righteous indignation.

“Wh-what is that supposed to mean!?” Sena exclaimed, face flushed and eyes darting over Shin’s face. “Did I really… Did I really have to _prove_ myself to you, this whole time? That’s all you wanted?” The hurt had his voice cracking as he began to shake harder.

Shin stared at him, mouth falling open but no words came out.

“Hey, what the hell is going on?”

“Leggo of Sena!”

“I don’t understand, what’s Shin doing?”

Sena flinched at the sudden onslaught of voices, but Shin’s hands gripped harder.

“No.”

The runningback blinked and jerked his head up. Shin was scowling, brows crashing down and eyes dark.

“No, that’s not it. You were… you were scared. You ran from me when I realized it was you. I was waiting for you... to face me like this.”

Sena felt his own jaw drop.

“You… you felt that? At the school?”

Shin nodded and Sena felt his cheeks heat.

“I was just surprised. That day, I was just… surprised. I didn’t think you’d _want_ it to be me. And then, the next day, you said you knew I was Eyeshield, too, so I thought because of the game before... And then you just _walked away_ , even though you knew _everything_. I thought you hated me. This whole time, _every time_ I saw you, I thought I wasn’t _good_ enough because you always walked away,” Sena blurted out. It felt so good to finally say it, like he was leeching out poison.

The look on Shin’s face was as if the words tumbling from Sena’s mouth were the stupidest things he’d ever heard had Sena's heart thudding faster.

“Eyeshield. Sena. You’ve never had to prove yourself to me.”

Sena’s hands curled into Shin’s jersey.

“I’ve the one who let you down this whole time. I’m the one that scared you. I couldn’t… I couldn’t protect you and when I found you, I caused you pain, too. I couldn’t _not_ be who I am, I couldn’t _not_ play my best. It wouldn’t be right. But as long as you were scared of me… I couldn’t force myself where I wasn’t wanted,” Shin explained. His stoic expression broke and Sena saw something conflicted and pained and _confused_.

This whole time, Shin had been _waiting_. Not for proof, but for Sena to _win_. He’d been cheering Sena on this whole time, believing in him, for _Sena’s sake_. Hoping that Sena could be strong enough to fight back and not be scared of _Shin_. It wasn’t just about the game. It was about Sena getting up and facing Shin head on without flinching. About Sena always getting back up and letting Sena do that by himself because Shin couldn’t help him. Not when they stood on opposite sides of the line of scrimmage.

Sena felt his own heartbreak at that. Knowing that this serious, focused, no-nonsense player, the best in Kantou, had been hoping for Sena to win. Not necessarily in touchdowns. No, it was about fighting and never being scared even when he failed. 

“You were scared, too,” Sena realized, voice soft. Shin looked startled at the words. “You were scared you were just like them. That I saw you as a bully, too.”

Shin’s dark eyes shuttered closed and he exhaled loudly through his nose, shoulders slumping. "Yes." The confession sounded torn from him. 

“It’s okay, Shin-san. I never thought you were a bully. I’ll never be scared of you again, I promise. _I_ _want you, too_ ,” Sena whispered.

Shin jerked his head up, eyes wide and expression raw. Sena smiled tremulously back. 

“I've always wanted you, even when I _was_ scared. I _missed_ you.” Sena laughed shyly, tears gathering on his lashes as his head ducked.

He eeped out loud, hands flapping awkwardly in the air. Shin’s arms wrapped too tightly around his waist and his face was buried in the curve of Sena’s neck, ignoring the sweat and mud just to be as close as possible. Finally, Sena wrapped his arms around Shin’s broad shoulders and dropped his forehead to thump onto the jersey-covered shoulder pad.

“Wait. Wait, _they’re soulmates?!_ ” Sakuraba was exclaiming.

“Oh, you didn’t realize it?” Takami asked, amusement plain in his voice.

“Fucking pretty boy doesn’t have much of a brain, does he?” Hiruma cackled. “Fucking monkey, go poke ‘em apart, they’re holding us up.”

“Uhhhh…. Why me?”

Sena dug his fingers into the back of Shin’s uniform and pressed his face against the side of Shin’s head- sweat and mud be damned. “I think we have to go do something or another.”

Shin held him tighter and grunted a disagreeable sound.

“I r-really thi-think…”

“I’ve been waiting six years. They can wait a little longer,” Shin grumbled irritably. Sena huffed amusedly.

“Good point.”

The referee whistle blew then and they fell apart, Shin scowling dangerously in the referee's direction (who actually blanched and took a step back). Sena’s face was tomato red as the roars of the crowd and the announcer’s excited stream of words met his ears. Everyone knew now. Almost all of Kantou and every opponent he'd ever faced. But Shin only stared down at him, unrepentant and unabashed. 

“You should- w-we sh-should b-both-”

“Kobayakawa Sena.”

The Deimon runningback stammered to a halt and gulped, trying not to smile at Shin or do something more embarrassing like run forward and start kissing again.

“Next year, with the new generation of Oujou, I’ll become your opponent again,” Shin said seriously. Sena nodded nervously. But something about Shin’s face softened. “This time I’ll be the challenger.”

“D-Don’t s-say th-that, I’m n-not…” he trailed off as Shins’ eyebrows went up. With a glance down to his eyeshield, seeing his own rugged and muddy face staring back, seeing a _winner_ staring back, Sena took a deep breath.

Wasn’t that the point of this game? To be equals? To look Shin in the eye and no longer feel… _less than_? And that’s what Shin meant now. Shin no longer had to wait for _him_ , and Sena was no longer scared. From this day on, they were rivals, standing on the same field, and there was no more question of _worthy_ or not.

“… me, too!” Sena looked up and met Shin’s expectant gaze. “When we meet then, I will have become stronger, too.” His voice didn’t waver and he felt his own conviction deep down inside him. Where he needed no one else to hold him up.

“Yeah.”

Sena boggled, face heating- no his _whole body_ blushing, when Shin’s already softened expression broke into something… something like a _smile_.

“It’d bother me otherwise,” Shin stated simply.

Sena wobbly-knee-walked himself back to his irritably waiting team.

 _“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?”_ More than half of them shouted at once. Sena rubbed the back of his head and chuckled awkwardly.

“So… uh… Shin Seijuuro is my soulmate?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Because of their withdrawal symptoms, they share dreams, feelings, and, later, physical sensations. Being a fourteen year old boy, Sena of course has a waking-wet-dream sort of situation and Shin gets dragged into it on accident (hence the dubcon warning). Because I'm 2friggin7 years old, it's was hard enough writing it as is (it's pretty vague and awkward, yay teenage hormones), and doing anything any more explicit made me nopenopenopenope. 
> 
> ALSO, blink and you miss Sterek cameo FOR THE LULZ.
> 
> This is also why I'm doing an incomprehensible series rather than a straight up story, though. I hate and love this oneshot. I don't feel like it's good enough, but I love what's been done. *sigh* I think I lack patience to make it into what I WANT it to be.


End file.
